


Trampolines are Distracting

by kungfunurse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Werefox Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:43:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kungfunurse/pseuds/kungfunurse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trampolines are Distracting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter/gifts).



> A belated birthday fic for Otter, who requested werefox!stiles and steered me towards the cutest [youtube video.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8xJtH6UcQY) Happy birthday!

The first thing Stiles figured out was that running was _fun._ After he’d gotten his four paws sorted out from his ridiculously fuzzy tail, that was. He spent more time than he’d ever admit to, actually, wobbling around his room on slender, black footed legs until he’d found his new balance.

Anyway. It didn’t even take that long, and if no one saw him splayed on the floor like a pig on an ice rink, then it never happened.

He got a good look at himself in the mirror, and damn, he was a handsome fox. His black tipped ears and pointed face went well with his sleek red coat. He was bigger than a normal fox, almost the size of a German Shepherd, though rangier, and his long, fuzzy tail waved regally behind him. He preened as his muscles rippled under his coat. Yeah, this would bring the lady foxes running to the yard. Or maybe the boy foxes. He was still figuring that part out. Whatever.

He grinned at himself in the mirror, jaws open and tongue hanging out, then turned to trot down the stairs. What he intended to be a smooth, graceful leap out the kitchen window turned into more of a wriggle-and-grunt thing when he got his belly stuck on the sill.

Once he was finally away from the window ledge of ungodly humiliation, he crept under a bush and licked his shoulder a few times. Nothing to see here, totally meant to do that. Then he paused, cocked his head to the side, and deliberately licked himself again. Huh. Note to self, grooming wasn’t nearly as weird as it should have been. Alrighty then.

He should probably find Scott, to figure out this whole Stiles-was-now-a-werefox-thing, and whoa, even thinking about it made his hugely sensitive ears swivel, searching for his best bud. Stiles lifted his muzzle, scenting a thousand things in the night air, then promptly tripped and stubbed his nose against the ground. 

_Fuck!_ He barked an alarm cry, rubbing his tender nose with a soft, black ankle. Right. He’d find Scott later, after he maybe could go ten seconds without embarrassing the hell out of himself.

But yeah, running. After all that, it didn’t take long to get comfortable in his super awesome fox body. He felt so incredible, so _alive._ He barked and howled, hearing his voice echo back, high pitched and eerie. He ran through back yards and across neighborhoods he’d never been in, but he knew absolutely that he’d be able to find his way home. 

There was a rustle ahead of him, and a delicious smell that made his mouth water. Suddenly he dashed to the left, chasing, chasing, god he wanted to catch it so badly! It was a rabbit, fat and slow, and he almost had it until it ducked under something and Stiles, still getting used to his muscles, leaped on top of it-

And bounced. 

He froze, all four paws planted, his tail whipping behind him for balance. The bouncy thing was firm and smelt like plastic and nylon and kids on a summer day. _It’s a trampoline, moron,_ he snorted, his new senses finally syncing up with the human memory in his head. 

Cautiously he bent his knees and pushed, and almost flew off the side with the momentum. Enthralled, the rabbit completely forgotten, he bounced again, and again, laughing in high, gekkering chirps of excitement. He threw himself on his side, on his belly, landing on his feet, doing tucks and bouncing as hard as he could to see how high he’d go. 

A camera flash caught his attention and he preened for a minute at the couple standing in the doorway, letting them get a few good shots before flicking his tail and dashing into the night.

Stiles realized he’d been working his way towards the preserve at the edge of town, and he slowed down to finally think about things. As fun as this had been, he should probably figure out what was going on. Nothing supernaturally weird had happened since school had let out. No witches, no alpha attacks, nada. He’d just been playing a nice, normal game of Skyrim, staying inside on the full moon like all nice, normal humans who knew about werewolves should. But here he was, definitely fox-shaped.

A rustle, different than anything else he’d heard, made his ears perk straight up, and his body try to melt into the ground. Shit, there was something out there. It smelt like a predator, musky and big and… like leather?

A pair of red eyes appeared out of the gloom, and the predator sniffed the night air, looking for him. Stiles pressed his belly harder into the earth, trying to disappear. The eyes blinked, then an aggravatingly familiar voice floated out.

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this, but… Stiles? Is that you?”

Caught between leftover fear from his fox body, and stomach churning embarrassment that Derek, of all people, was seeing him like this, he squirmed and let out a pathetic whimper.

“Stiles, look at you. Can you tell me happened?” Derek had an odd expression on his face. His eyebrows were up and his mouth was soft and open. He spoke quietly, and he walked slowly towards Stiles, one hand stretched out, like he was trying not to scare him.

He was being an absolute idiot. Stiles tried to tell him that, and ended up flattening his ears and making unintelligible fox grumbles at him.

Derek actually puffed out a laugh. “No you’re right. I’m being an idiot, of course you can’t tell me what happened. Can I touch you? Would that be ok? My, you’re a handsome fox.”

Stiles stood up, shaking out his glossy red coat, and trotted over to Derek’s fingers. It’s not that he was susceptible to flattery or anything, but at least Derek was right about his awesome foxiness.

Derek brushed his fingertips across Stiles’ back, and it made him shiver in pleasure. Without meaning to, he pushed into Derek’s hand, rubbing his silky ears against his palm. Derek started scratching behind one ear, and Stiles nearly passed out from pleasure. He plopped his butt on the ground and leaned against Derek’s arm, eyes closed in bliss.

“I guess you were out looking for Scott, and got distracted,” Derek murmured, sitting down and pulling Stiles in close to his stomach, arms and legs curled around him. “I heard this demented fox from miles away, and was coming to see who was making all that noise. Should have known it was you.” 

The soft babbling was soothing. Stiles curled his tail up around his flanks and made himself a round ball of foxy warmth up against Derek. Derek’s scent was doing the most peculiar thing, changing from _predator-run-danger_ into something else. Stiles pushed his head into Derek’s chest, getting more of Derek’s scent on his fur. It was still the scent of an alpha werewolf, still dangerous and attention grabbing. But now it was changing into _safe_ and _protection_ and _familypackalphagood._ He nuzzled deeper against Derek’s chest, mixing his own scent with Derek’s, and the combined smell was even more satisfying.

“I suppose we should get you to Deaton,” Derek said eventually. Stiles ignored him, mouthing at Derek’s shirt. He didn’t want to go to Deaton. He wanted to stay curled up in Derek’s werewolfy warmth and listen to more of Derek’s not-angry voice.

Stiles looked up, one eye peeking out of Derek’s rucked up shirt, his ears floppy and wide. Derek’s whole face was actually relaxed and _happy,_ and Stiles darted up to lick his nose. Derek snorted, then tussled with Stiles’ thick ruff, laughing like he was a kid again. 

When they finally settled, Stiles was panting and happily sprawled on top of Derek. He tucked his muzzle under Derek’s chin, and Derek’s hands were buried deep in his fur, his knees cradling Stiles flanks. Stiles heaved a huge sigh, utterly content. “Well, maybe we could wait until morning,” Derek allowed. 

-fin!

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on [tumblr!](http://kungfunurse.tumblr.com/)


End file.
